


Of Traffic Laws and Chocolate Icing

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: AU, F/M, idk man, trollcops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-08
Updated: 2013-06-08
Packaged: 2017-12-14 08:20:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/834725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Karkat and Terezi face another boring night on the job</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Traffic Laws and Chocolate Icing

Neither of you care about traffic violations. It’s a fact you keep to yourselves, even though you’re pretty sure most of the other cops don’t care either. But as far as law-breaking goes, there’s not much else going on. The more experienced officers handle all of those crimes.

You and Karkat are stuck parked on the side of the road late every night, until close to sunrise.  It’s mostly pretty boring. You get at least one traffic violation each night, but nine times out of ten it’s your run of the mill speeder. You take turns writing the tickets because at this point, it’s just that boring.

This time, it’s Karkat’s turn. He pushes at the car door weakly before he leaves, so that it doesn’t close. You’d reach over and close it yourself if you thought it was worth the effort.

With a sigh, you lean on the steering wheel and watch him go. In the silence, you let your mind wander. Karkat’s a pretty good partner, you think. You always have to go out in pairs as a safety precaution. You could have been stuck with a lot worse. You might have been stuck with one of those guys you can’t even complain around without them bringing up that traffic tickets make up half the police department’s income.

Karkat isn’t like that. He’s a little like you, actually. He’d rather be concentrating on the criminals that actually need to be brought to justice. Though you personally think the traffic laws are more for safety reasons than anything, neither of you are too concerned with trolls that prefer to drive a little faster.

You’re lucky to have a partner like him, you think. Even though he’s short and angry, even though he’s a little full of himself sometimes and he’s currently calling the speeder names such as “douchewagon” and “fuckwhistle”, you think you could’ve been stuck with a lot worse.

You think you could do a lot worse when it comes to finding a matesprit as well. The chemistry is definitely there. You actually get along well enough, despite your more than occasional arguments. He’s a better guy than you give him credit for most of the time. He’s passionate. He works hard. He cares about people. He cares about you. You care about him.

He opens the car door in the middle of your musing, already complaining about how rude this guy is. As Karkat yanks the computer screen over to face him, he shoots you a glare. “What are you grinning about?” he asks, checking the man’s driver’s license and typing in the number.

“Oh, nothing.” You try to keep your face blank. He looks at you suspiciously, and you decide to change the subject back. “If he’s rude, just give him a more expensive ticket or something.”

He smirks at the idea, but shakes his head. “No, I’ve done that enough times. I’ll get in trouble if they catch me again.”

By ‘they’, you assume he means your boss. Karkat finishes with the computer and writes the ticket quickly. His signature is more of a scribble than an actual signature, but you’ve seen it enough times that you can recognize some of the scribble as letters.

When he’s done with that, he leaves the car again to give the man his ticket. This time, he slams the door. You sigh, and then you get an idea. You check the time first, and it’s about ten minutes until the end of your shift. Perfect.

Karkat hands he driver his ticket and license quickly and probably doesn’t bother to say good night before he makes his way back over. The speeder is back on the road by the time he reaches the car. You bet the guy is probably speeding again, but you don’t care enough to make sure.

As Karkat climbs back into the passenger seat, he starts grumbling. You can make out the words “At least that’s over now,” as he buckles up.

“Hey, how about we take off early and go get something to eat?” you say as you check for approaching cars. As it always is toward the end of your shift, there’s barely anyone out.

You watch the road instead of him, but you think he probably nods; he doesn’t say anything for a moment, and you guess it takes him a moment to realize. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

You nod as well, and you slow down a little so you can take the next right turn. “Anything in particular you’re craving?”

You feel more than see him look at you. “Donuts, of course.”

“Alright, just thought I’d ask.”

“You shouldn’t need to ask. What kind of cop are you?” At first you think he’s legitimately annoyed, but by the second sentence you can tell he’s joking. You snort and roll your eyes, but you smile because your plan to cheer him up seems to be working already.

It only takes you about five minutes to reach your favorite donut shop with so few people out. Good thing too, because this particular shop closes right when your shift is supposed to end. You hop out of the car quickly, and pat your back pocket to make sure you have your wallet.

Unfortunately, Karkat notices. “No, leave your wallet in the car. I’m paying.”

You close the car door and lock it to make a point. “No, it’s my treat.”

“Please, a gentleman always pays,” he says as you walk around the front of the car and reach his side.

“Exactly. That’s why I’m paying,” you respond, even as you feel yourself blush a little. From the way he smiles, you don’t think he misses it.

“Fine, but I’m getting the door.” With that, he starts to run ahead of you. You scream at him and chase him. You’re fast enough that even with his head start, you get there at the same time. Both of you pull on the handle simultaneously.

You end up in a position where you can easily switch to hold the bar on the inside of the door, so you do just that. Your body blocks Karkat from trying to hold the door and he knows it. It’s a few seconds before he admits defeat though. He enters the donut shop ahead of you without another word.

You successfully get your donuts to the cash register in record time; however, you don’t succeed in paying for them. Karkat bumps his hip into yours hard enough to actually make you stumble, and he hands some cash over by the time you get your wallet out. He looks pretty pleased with himself as he picks up the box, but at least you beat him to the door again.

When you rush ahead of him to the car door to open that for him too, he gives you a funny look. It’s pretty confused, but also amused, you think. “You haven’t taken the joke far enough yet?” he asks. He doesn’t get in the car.

“It’s not a joke, Boo. I’mma treat you right.” You give him a wink and a smirk, and he ducks his head and enters the car. Closing the door behind him, you count that as another victory to make up for your loss.

He’s opened the box by the time you take your seat on the driver’s side. Without a word, he holds it out to you, and you grab one at random. You take a look at what you’re eating before you put it in your mouth. The icing is chocolate, with colorful sprinkles on top. Your favorite is the kind with pink icing, but this is close enough.

You notice Karkat staring at you before you take a bite. You stare back at him questioningly. He furrows his brow. “Are you just going to stare at it, or eat it?”

Your confusion starts to lift at that. “Yeah, I’m eating it. Are you going to have one?”

“Yeah, I’m going to have one.” To prove his point, he picks one up and tears a bite out of it. He looks like a sulky preteen when he chews. It makes you laugh before you bite into your own donut.

“What’s funny?” he asks with his mouth full. You kind of wish he’d have the decency to chew and swallow before he speaks.

You chew and swallow out of habit. “You’re so grumpy, but somehow you make it really cute.”

His frown grows a little deeper. “I’m not cute,” he mumbles through a mouth still full of donut. Karkat swallows and takes another smaller bite, and continues to hold the donut in front of his face.

“No, you’re adorable.” You take another bite too, and somehow manage to smirk at him as you chew.

“Fuck you, I’m not adorable.” Before you’re even halfway done with yours, Karkat finishes his donut. He actually looks at his options before picking one up this time. “Is the chocolate icing any good?”

You nod at him. “Yeah, have you never had chocolate icing or something?”

“Well, not from this place.” He pulls on a donut that looks almost identical to yours, except it’s not half gone, and it’s currently stuck to another.

That actually gives you an idea. “Here, try it,” you say, holding the remains of yours out to him. He lifts his head to look at you only to see a pastry inches from his face. He looks at it and back at you, and then tries to grab it. You move it toward his lips though, and only then does he get your intention. It makes him blush, but he tentatively goes along with it.

With part of it in his mouth, it’s easy to squish the rest all over his face. He shouts at you but you don’t care. It’s kind of hilarious, actually.

You laugh at him as you pick up another donut, this time with white icing. “It’s not funny,” he grumbles as he wipes some of the remains of the donut off of his face. You calm down enough to bite into your donut just a few seconds before he tries to shake the icing and crumbs off of his hand and onto you. He pretty much fails and you start laughing again.

“God, you’re so cute,” you say, covering your mouth before you swallow. You shift the donut to your other hand and lick your fingers. Before Karkat can say a word about it, you use one of those fingers to wipe some icing off a spot he missed.

He’s too flustered to even gripe about you calling him cute again. You continue to eat your donut as if the moment never happened, just to fuck with him. Eventually he just picks up another donut and starts eating again.

“Hey, you’re right, this is pretty good.” You know he’s only trying to change the subject to ease up the embarrassment a little. You take pity on him and go along with it, telling him you told him so.

He smiles a little when he realizes you’ve decided to stop being mean for the night. “Thanks for this, by the way.”

“You’re the one that bought them, silly,” you say, but you smile anyway. You guess your plan to cheer him up worked pretty well.


End file.
